Sword of Shannara
by Hazelcloud
Summary: On a beach in Surda, an elf is discovered along with a magical sword. After being delivered to the Varden, he claims that he can help them but certain questions still linger in everyone's minds. Who is he and what's so special about his sword?
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

**Author's note: I just remembered something that I forgot to put in the summary! This is a crossover between Eragon and the Shannara books by Terry Brooks, but I promise that even if you have not read the Shannara books you will be able to understand the story!**

By the coast of Surda, two men were walking along a beach lazily discussing politics and farming. The sun was beginning to and shadows began to coat the landscape. Perhaps that is why they did not see the man right away. The man groaned and the two men spun around. The man who was the source of the groan was lying crumpled on the beach. His clothing was tattered and salt encrusted. The tide lapped at the man's feet but he made no effort to escape it.

The two men cautiously approached the other. When he made no move in recognition, they knelt by him and looked at his face. The man seemed rather young. His face was tan as if he was a farmer, and his eyes were closed. Indeed, he seemed to be only barely breathing. A breeze ruffled the man's blonde hair and revealed pointed ears.

"He's an elf," The first man said, rather unnecessarily. The other man sighed.

"Yes, this means that we cannot let him die. Lady Nasuada and the elves would have our heads on a silver platter if they found out that we left him," Carefully, they lifted the motionless elf. There was a clank as a roughly wrapped bundle fell from the elf's arms. Grimacing one of the men grabbed the bundle and setting off at a slow pace they began their journey home.

Later that night after the elf had been washed and administered the proper care the men gathered together to examine the bundle. The material that wrapped the bundle was rough and it contrasted sharply with the object inside. When they pulled back the cloth a wondrous blade was revealed. It was impossibly smooth, and it gleamed silver. It was light enough to be handled with one hand in spite of its length and size. At the handle of the sword there was a coppery symbol, it was a hand clutching a torch with the flame of the torch rising toward the tip of the blade.

"Do you think it could be a rider's sword?" One of the men asked. The other let out a low curse.

"We have to bring this elf to the Varden, and quickly! I don't know if this is a rider's sword but if it is will you surely get a handsome reward," The other said.

So it was decided, the men would bring the sword and the elf to the Varden. Thus began a new story.

**Author's note: Please review! I promise that all will be explained in the next chapter, which I will post in a week or after I get five reviews!**

**Oh, and kudos to anyone who can tell me the name of the sword and the handler of the sword! P.S. It's not Jerle Shannara.**


	2. The Sword

**The Sword**

"Look at this!" Arya said to Eragon and Nasuada. "It's fine enough to be of elven make," Indeed the sword seemed to shine. Eragon traced the symbol of the hand and torch with his finger.

"What do you think it means?" He asked. Everyone shrugged; they had been asking themselves the same question for several days. In fact it had been since the two men had brought the sword and the elf to the Varden. Nasuada had of course rewarded the men handsomely, for they knew that only one person had the answers to their questions. Still, privately each of them was beginning to worry, for the elf still had not awoken.

There was a knock at the door, and a maid entered. The maid was the little old lady who was in charge of caring for the elf.

"My ladies and Shades-slayer," She curtseyed. "I believe that our guest may be awakening," She smiled broadly and beckoned for them to follow. Pausing only to wrap up the sword, they hurried after her.

When they entered the room, he was already sitting up. Confusion clouded his face as he looked at them. Arya greeted him using the traditional elven gesture, and the confusion deepened.

"Who are you? Where am I?" He said finally. This caused Arya, Nasuada and Eragon to frown.

"You are in Alagaesia of course," Eragon said. "I am Eragon Shades-slayer, that is Arya Shadeslayer, and this is Lady Nasuada," He explained but the man had no idea what the titles meant.

"You are not from Alagaesia, are you?" Arya said. Lady Nasuada began to question him.

"Who are you and where are you from?"

"I am Shea Ohmsford, and I come from the Southland," He said.

"The Southland… is where?" Nasuada said.

"The Four lands. There are the Northland, Southland, Eastland and Westland," Shea said.

"What elf currently leads your people?" Arya asked.

"Um…I think that Eventine Elessedil is king of the elves," Shea said hesitantly. Arya shook her head and said that she had never heard of that elf. Eragon was puzzled by Shea's answer and decided to question him.

"You are an elf, right?"

"I'm half elf," Shea said. "Why?" Eragon looked excited and began to pepper him with questions, for here was another person like him, another half elf.

"Are there other half elves? How long to do you live? Can you use magic?"

"I don't think there are many half elves. I'll live a normal life, and I don't have magic," Shea said.

"Are your elves then… not immortal?" Arya asked.

"No one is immortal, at least no one where I come from," Shea said. The four sat in silence as they considered each other.

_It seems that the place he comes from is very strange. _Saphira remarked to Eragon. _It is a good thing that he has not seen me. I doubt that there are dragons in the place._

_Yes. _Eragon said. There was a silence till Eragon remembered the sword. He enwrapped it and showed it to Shea.

"What is this?" He asked. "Also, what does this symbol stand for?"

"That is the Sword of Shannara. I am the last of the Shannara bloodline and only in my hands can its full power be wielded. In your hands it would work as nothing more than a normal sword, a normal sword of extremely fine make that is. That torch and hand is the Eilt Druin, which means 'Through Knowledge, Power' or even more literally 'Through Truth, Power'," Shea said.

"It looks like an elven sword to me," Arya said.

"Nay, it was forged by a human with the help of a druid. It is a combination of magic and science," Shea said.

"Science?" Eragon said.

"Don't ask me, I'm not sure what it is only that it existed in the old world but exists no longer," Shea shook his head. There was another awkward silence. "So, what's Alagaesia like?"

"Well, Alagaesia is currently ruled by the evil King Galbatorix, and I am the leader of the Varden. The Varden is a group that seeks to defeat Galbatorix," Lady Nasuada said.

"I am the last free dragon rider, my dragon Saphira is the last female dragon," Eragon said.

"I am an ambassador of the elves, who along with the dwarves are committed to defeating Galbatorix," Arya said. Shea mulled it over for a while, and then said.

"Well, it looks as if you have got everything under control but perhaps I could be of service,"

**Author's note: I know that that was a lot of information but in order to make this work, I need them to know a bit about the Four Lands, the Sword of Shannara etc. Reviews are of course appreciated! (Same deal as last chapter: 5 reviews or another week, perhaps longer.)**


	3. Shea Shannara Ohmsford

**Shea (Shannara) Ohmsford**

Back in his room Shea was frowning, and considering his current situation. He did not like how Eragon, Nasuada, and Arya had responded to his offer. They had accepted but had looked as if they believed that he would be no help at all.

Of course, he was far from helpless. He unwound the cloth covering the Sword of Shannara and smiled at it. They had allowed him to keep it with him because that had deemed it no more of a threat than any other sword. He was very far from helpless.

….Flashback….

He stood across from his brother, Flick, and next to the Druid Allanon. Flick was pointlessly trying to persuade Shea not to listen to Allanon.

"You cannot be expected to risk your life again not so soon after defeating the Warlock Lord! Please Shea, don't listen to him you know that druids often tell only half-truths. There is more than meets the eye to this request!" Flick said helplessly, for he knew his brother well enough to know that his mind was already set. The druid Allanon in his dark robes watched the argument indifferently, his black eyes seeming to stare through the two men. Then he spoke, his deep voice powerful.

"Come now, Ohmsford. I have talked to the shades of the druids, they wish that the bearer of the Sword of Shannara take up the sword and ferry it to another place. A land by the name of Alagaesia has need of it. Without Shea's help another Warlock Lord could be released upon the world," Allanon said. What Flick had said was true for Allanon new almost nothing of the land that the shades had mentioned but the shades had said that the Black King had already risen. The Black King, a man who would rival even the Warlock Lord in power had the Warlock Lord survived his battle with Shea.

"I cannot ignore the shades, Flick. I have no choice. I cannot knowingly let another Warlock Lord rise," Shea said.

"Then I am coming with you," Flick said.

"Impossible, the shades said that Shea is to go alone," Allanon had answered. That was how days later Shea Ohmsford had ended up boarding a ship with a crew of elves that was aiming out into the sea. A storm had struck and the swelling of the waves, and rocking of the ship had thrown Shea overboard, and allowed him to miraculously end up on the shores of the very land he was searching for!

…Present…

A few hours later, the man called Eragon Shades-slayer entered Shea's room. He watched him examine the sword and then began to speak.

"I would like to spar with you," Eragon said. "We need to assess your ability with a sword,"

"It would be my pleasure," Shea said.

**Hazelcloud: Alright, I promise that there will be way more action next chapter. Perhaps, I will also demonstrate the Sword of Shannara's power! Anyway I'll post the next chapter in about a week.**

**Oh, and a druid is a traveling historian who also has amazing magical abilities and the ability to talk to the shades(shades in this case being ghosts) to discover the future.**


	4. Brisingr and Flames of Truth

**Brisingr and Flames of Truth**

Eragon swiftly pulled Brisingr out of the sheath, with the ease of a professional. Shea he noticed held the Sword of Shannara awkwardly in both hands. He felt a twinge of sorrow; Shea had no idea what he was getting himself into. After all, he was about to spar with an elf.

_Perhaps I will go easy on him. _Eragon thought.

_Nay, I believe that he knows what he is doing. _Saphira said.

_He cannot possibly be as fast an elf. I cannot spar with him as I would spar with Arya. _Eragon explained.

_Then act human. _Saphira said.

_I am human, at least partly. _Eragon chuckled and withdrew from his contact with Saphira. Shea was watching him closely, trying Eragon supposed to predict his next move. Well, he decided to try and shock him.

"Brisingr," He whispered, and watched content as the flames sprang up on Brisingr. They swirled around the blade making it terrifyingly intense. Eragon looked over and Shea, and watched in amazement. Shea seemed to retreat within himself and concentrate, then to Eragon's surprise he flared up and the Sword of Shannara lit up like a beacon, light a bit like flames shone from the blade. Shea swung the Sword towards Eragon, and Eragon struggled uselessly to bring up Brisingr. The Sword landed on his shoulder, just brushing his skin.

Then light in the Sword deepened, and began to roll off the Sword in waves, sinking into his skin. It carried him off into himself, and began to show him the visions. They started at the beginning of his world, and continued on from there. Each one lasted only seconds, and he barely had time to comprehend the first before another started. Still, each emphasized how short and insignificant his life was comparatively. Also, to his disbelief he watched the rider's lives, discovering that they had not always been the peace bringers; that they had sometimes given into greed, and lies.

It felt like he was floundering in a sea or darkness, it was almost impossible for him to accept that he was such a small being, and that in the big scheme of things he was nothing more than another creature. That the rider's had not always been the heroes like the histories suggested. The picture was too big, so he desperately tried to focus in one thing, his own life.

Then his life began to flash before him. Every lie, half-truth, and truth that he had ever told; every good deed, and bad deed was laid bare before him. Every time he had hurt someone, and the times he had helped people. It was almost overwhelming. He saw himself berating Murtagh for killing Torkenbrand, and then mercilessly killing soldiers in the battle of the burning plains with magic. He saw himself cursing Elva, and Saphira mending the Sapphire Rose. He saw himself rescuing Katrina, and arguing with Vanir. So many of his ideas that he held dear, and his actual actions contradicted each other that all he could do was watch in confusion.

Yet, he found himself agreeing with this vision of self brought to him by the power of the Sword. He could not deny any of his actions, so this must be the truth. When he reached that conclusion the burning feeling of the Sword disappeared, and a new feeling of warmth settled in.

_Evarín Wiol allr._

Blinking, Eragon squinted up at Shea as the light and power faded from the Sword. Shea was smiling down at him, but an angry Arya was pressing a dagger to Shea's throat.

"Are you alright?" Arya sounded worried. Shea winced as the dagger cut into his skin drawing a thin line of blood.

"Ilumёo. Truth," He breathed. "That's the power of the Sword,"

"A weak power," Arya remarked. Eragon looked up at her as if seeing her for the first time. Residue power from the Sword informed him in a quick succession of visions that the elves lived in a world of half-truths; looking only at parts, not at the whole picture.

"I'm fine, let him go. He's a guest, you know," Eragon snapped at Arya. She flinched and glared at him. Then she turned sharply and walked off, angrily.

"Thanks," Shea murmured quietly.

"No problem, I don't know why she acted that way. She's usually not that hasty," Eragon apologized.

"I'm glad that you agreed to spar with me, I had a feeling that you would be able to survive," Shea said.

"Survive?" Eragon asked surprised. "Have you seen it destroy anyone?"

"Yes, I…used…it. I killed one on accident, and one…for the good of my land," Shea stumbled over the words, embarrassed.

"Oh," Eragon nodded. Shea had not seemed like he had killed anyone, he seemed too young and fragile. There was an awkward silence as both considered what had occurred.

"So, am I worthy enough to help you?" Shea teased Eragon.

"Of course. I think we might become good friends," Eragon smiled.

**Author's note: My computer crashed, and lost everything, so I'm behind on this story. I had to re-write this chapter, and I hope that I didn't miss anything. Please review because I need encouragement! I'm so frustrated.**

Next Chapter:

A strange ship has appeared on a beach in Surda. A couple more Shannara characters seem to have come along for the ride!

**I don't know when I'll get the next chapter up; I'll try to get it up in about a week, but no promises.**


	5. A Strange Ship

**Hazelcloud: Wow, I'm kind of disappointed...not single review, and it was longer than usual... Please review!**

**A Strange Ship**

A man stood on the deck of a ship. It was made of a chocolate brown wood, and rocked gently as the violent waves of the ocean threatened to sink it. The sea was fearsome, but the ship rode it easily as if relishing the challenge. The man standing on deck was the only person who had not fallen ill. All of the other passengers were currently suffering from sea sickness. He peered ahead at the endless waves as if searching for land.

Land soon appeared. It showed a coast covered with fine pale sand. The outskirts of a village were visible within a few hours. The man walked to the helm, and began to steer the ship towards the coast. He beached it as close to the land as possible. Then he turned swiftly and went to wake the other passengers.

* * *

Surda had enjoyed relative peace when Galbatorix had been isolated in Uru'baen, and had been un-interested in ruling. Even when it seceded from the Empire it had barely encountered any opposition. Even now when a war was raging on the border, many of the coastal villages were never bothered by the larger cares of the land.

A certain village though was having more than enough excitement for a lifetime. Weeks earlier, an elf had been rescued from the mouth of the sea. The villagers had been glad to be rid of him, and after the sparkle of the gold that they had been given wore off, they settled gratefully back into the comfort of their everyday routine. Everyone had thought that they had had their quota of adventure for a lifetime. Suddenly, it seemed that they had been mistaken.

The men had awoken to find a strange ship had been washed up onto their beach. Not a soul had seen it arrive, and no one had seen anyone leave it yet. The villagers marveled at the size of it, and the fishermen had been pleased by its quality; still none of them dared to board it and see what it carried.

So a crowd had gathered below the ship, gossiping and wondering who was in charge of such a thing. That was when the thing had appeared on deck. It was silent, and it towered above the villagers from the deck of the ship. It would have been taller of them regardless for it was easily seven feet tall. Black robes were wrapped about the frame of the thing, and a hood shadowed its face.

There was a gasp from the villagers, and fear caused them to scatter heading back towards the town. From a slightly farther distance they watched warily. The black cloaked shape chuckled dryly, and disappeared from view as it went back into the ship in search of something.

The villagers crept closer to the ship, their curiosity winning overpowering their common sense. Whispers spread rumors like a wild fire through their ranks, murmuring that the man had to be a magician in league with Galbatorix, others said that there was no way that the thing was human. Silence ensued when faint echoing footsteps were heard from the deck of the ship.

The black thing had returned, but was accompanied by a sleepy looking young man. He became suddenly alert when he gazed down upon them. He grimaced, and climbed down the side of the ship.

The villagers examined him closely, even as he watched them carefully. He seemed young, and he had an almost carefree look to him. His dark brown hair slightly shaded the grey eyes that flickered about trying to take everything in. He was about average height but he had a rangy appearance. He stood still, preferring not to be the first to speak.

"Who are you?" The chief elder asked.

"My name is Menion Leah," The man said with a broad smile, he had an easy demeanor.

"I have never heard of you before," The elder admitted, though he was hardly surprised. "Who or what is that thing up on the deck of your ship?"

"That is Allanon," Menion was still smiling. There was a pause with the villagers waiting for an elaboration on the being, Allanon. Menion smiled again. "He is human, or at least human enough. He is a traveling historian, and a dabbler in the art of magic," There was a sharp intake of breath from the villagers.

"Do you support Galbatorix or the Varden?" The chief asked. Menion watched as a ripple of fear passed through the crowd when the man said Galbatorix. Menion weighed his options, and decided to try to be truthful.

"Well, I must say that I've never heard of either. I am searching for a friend of mine," Menion said. The elder looked surprised.

"What did your friend look like?" He asked.

"Well, he has blond hair, and he looks a bit like an elf," Menion struggled to come up with a description.

"We did find a person like the one you have described," The elder said slowly.

"And?" Menion prodded hopefully.

"We sent him to the Varden because they are the allies of the elves, and we didn't know that you would come looking for him," The elder stammered out an apology. Menion sighed; knowing that the reason that the man was frightened was become Allanon had descended from the deck of the ship.

"That's fine. We'll just have to find him," Menion tried to soothe the frightened elder.

"We shall require the necessary provisions, and a few good horses," Allanon's deep voice rumbled beside him. The elder crossed himself muttering about demons. Allanon reached into his robes and brought out a gleaming handful of gold coins. "Surely, someone can help us,"

"I can. I have some horses that I believe will suit your needs," A man stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Excellent, Menion go find Flick. I will meet you both in the town," Allanon ordered. Menion climbed back into the ship and went to find Flick. Allanon walked quickly after the man who claimed to have horses, his black cloak fluttering in the breeze.

A few hours later, Menion accompanied by another man, finally found Allanon still in deep conversation with the horse man. The man glanced over examining the man accompanying Menion. He was young, but his brownish gray hair and stocky build made him look much older.

"This is Flick Ohmsford. It is his brother that we are searching for," Allanon explained briefly before, changing the topic back to horses. Finally, the two reached an agreement and the man took them to see the horses. He brought out three horses; each had tack, and bags of provisions already packed.

"This is Cadoc, Jair, and Balian," The man said.

"Thank you, I'm very grateful for your help," Allanon said, handing over some gold. Menion smiled thinking that he was glad that Allanon had not had to get his way forcefully. They mounted the horses.

"Now, head north towards the border, and you'll eventually find the Varden's camp," The man said. Allanon nodded, and they began to ride off.

The man was soon left behind, and he shook his head counting the gold again. He was glad for the gold, but he was also glad that they were gone. Allanon's eyes had given him the chills, for they were black and had seemed to look right through him into his soul. Shivering, he hurried home, hoping that no more excitement would bother the coastal village he called home.

**Author's note: I sure hope that this chapter was good. I liked it! Anyway reviews are always appreciated, and they speed up the updates!**

Next chapter:

Eragon, Arya, and Shea are called to meet with Nasuada. News of the strange ship has reached Surda!


	6. Another Raz'ac?

**Another Raz'ac?**

Inside a tent, as the first shafts of sunlight began to filter in, Shea was stretching. When, he was sufficiently awake he began to get dressed. Then he sat on the cot and tried to sort through what had landed him in Alagaesia.

A sharp cry interrupted his musings. He looked up at the door flap of the tent.

"Shea Ohmsford?" The voice said again.

"Yes?" Shea said.

"Lady Nasuada has requested your presence at a meeting. I am to escort you to her right away,"

"Alright, I'll be right out," Shea said. He ran his fingers through his hair wondering if he looked presentable. Glancing around the room he shrugged, if not there was nothing that he could do about it. Pulling the tent flap open, he stepped out into the sunlight, and turned to look at the messenger.

The messenger for his part looked less surprised than most upon seeing Shea's slanted brows and pointed ears. Everyone always seemed amused that he was an elf, but that he seemed to be no better than a human. The messenger motioned for Shea to follow and led him to Nasuada's command tent.

The tent was the largest of all of the tents in the Varden's camp. Shea had been into many of them, because Eragon and his cousin Roran had decided that it was their job to teach him about Alagaesia. As much as Shea was enjoying learning about this strange new world, every time he saw Roran and Eragon talking together, he could not help but think about his brother Flick. Loyal old Flick, had he asked Flick would had gone with him on the journey but he had refused to let him.

The messenger announced his presence to those gathered inside the tent, and Shea steeled himself, ready for the onslaught of surprised gazes and questions that would come when those gathered inside realized how different he was from Alagaesian elves.

To his grateful surprise the only people inside the tent were Lady Nasuada, Eragon, and Arya. He greeted them all with a quick bow.

"Sit down Shea," Lady Nasuada said softly motioning to a chair next to Arya. Shea sat glancing nervously at Arya. He had the feeling that she disliked him a lot for some reason unknown to him.

"So, Nasuada what are these rumors that you having been hearing about?" Eragon asked curiously. Everyone turned to look intently at her, eyes gleaming.

"Intelligence reports indicate that a large ship arrived at a small town on the coast of Surda a few days ago. It is a large ship that would definitely have needed many crew members, but the villagers report that three people left the ship, and when our inspectors went onboard the ship, there was no one else there," Nasuada said seriously.

"Did you gather any reliable descriptions of the three who were on the ship?" Arya asked.

"We have some descriptions, but I'm not sure how reliable they are. Two of the people from the ship are described as average looking possibly young men. One had brown hair and grey eyes, the other had grey-ish brown hair and he was rather stocky. The report of the third though is what troubles me the most," Nasuada said.

"Why?" Shea asked, falling silent when he received a glare from Arya. Nasuada ignored his outburst and continued with her report.

"It is described as around seven feet tall, and it dressed in black cloaks. Every one of the villagers cannot describe its face because it scared them all. The one person who did deal with the three the most cannot remember what they looked like at all," Nasuada said.

"Black cloaked, and scary…hmm. If I hadn't killed all of the Raz'ac that would be my guess," Eragon murmured.

"Are you sure you killed all of the Raz'ac?" Arya asked.

"Of course!" Eragon looked slightly offended.

"It reminds me of a skull bearer, but those were all destroyed…" Shea puzzled over the descriptions, they sounded so familiar.

"Why do we automatically trust him? Why are we letting him sit in on secret meetings but we haven't even bothered to sift through his memories?" Arya fumed.

"I trust him, isn't that enough?" Eragon sounded angry but Nasuada was already nodding.

"Arya's right, Eragon we need to go through his mind," Nasuada said. "Your safety is very important.

"Then I will be the one to do it," Eragon said, and ignoring Arya and Nasuada, he turned to Shea. "Now I am going to go into your mind, so that I can confirm that you are not a threat,"

"Um, okay," Shea said hesitantly.

"Don't worry," Eragon said. Then, he went into Shea's mind. Shea had no barriers and Eragon got in easily. Then beginning at the start of Shea's memories he worked his way onward.

What he discovered was that Shea was the adopted son of an innkeeper, and he had one brother named Flick Ohmsford. Up until the last year he had lived a really ordinary life, he had helped his father around the inn, and visited with his rather free-spirited friend Menion Leah.

Then, one day a man came told him of his heritage. Shea discovered that he was a descendant of Jerle Shannara, the last surviving heir to the line of Shannara. Thus, began his quest for the Sword of Shannara, so that he might defeat the spreading evil of the Warlock Lord. With the help of his many friends, he managed to obtain the Sword of Shannara, and he survived its cold harsh truth. Then he used the talisman against the Warlock Lord.

Eragon retreated from Shea's mind, overwhelmed by the wealth of adventure that had befallen Shea in the last year.

"So can we trust him?" Nasuada asked.

"He's never even heard of Galbatorix, so he cannot possibly be working for him," Eragon said nodding.

"That was really weird," Shea said. Eragon turned to look at him.

"Shea there is something that I am going to teach you. If you want to keep someone out of your mind you have to focus really hard on something. Okay, now try it," Eragon instructed. Nasuada waited patiently, but Arya was tapping her nails of the table in irritation.

"Okay. I'm ready," Shea said focusing on the design of the hand raising the torch that was engraved on the Sword. Eragon tried to enter his mind, and after a sort time searching he found a crack in Shea's defenses.

"Keep trying. Practice makes perfect," Eragon said.

"Thank you," Shea said gratefully. He did not want to feel another mind in his again; it had been too strange and foreign.

"Eragon, the elven queen has requested your presence for Glaedr and Oromis's burial," Nasuada said. Eragon felt tears beginning to blur his vision. "I have decided that this is very important, so I am allowing you and Arya to go join the elves for the burial, and for however long after that that you deem necessary,"

"Thank you, Nasuada. This means a lot to me," Eragon said quietly. Arya murmured her agreement.

"I know, I know," Nasuada said softly.

**Hazelcloud: I'm surprised...no reviews for two chapters. If you're interested in this story, please let me know by reviewing! Please click the little green button, I know you can do it!**

Next chapter:

Eragon, Arya, and Shea set off for the elven army's camp, and run into some trouble along the way.


	7. Traveling

**Hazelcloud: I just wanted to say thanks for all of the reviews ****Amberle****! Also thanks to the anonymous people who reviewed.**

**Traveling**

Soon afterward, Eragon and Arya flew off on Saphira. Shea mounted a horse and rode off after them. Nasuada had decided that he might as accompany them. He sensed that she just hoped that the elves would know what to do with him. Eragon had seemed pleased that he was allowed to come, if a bit annoyed that the travel pace would be slower because Saphira had to protect him. Arya had glared at him openly angry, seeing him as a nuisance.

He had belted the Sword of Shannara to the saddlebags of the horse, and started off. It was nice to be riding alone. Saphira had swooped higher so that if there was a random passerby they would not see her. Without Arya's constant glares, he felt like he could finally relax.

He tried to muddle through the tangle of memories and events that had occurred since he had been stranded. One memory stood out even brighter than the others, as if begging for his attention.

"_We have some descriptions, but I'm not sure how reliable they are. Two of the people from the ship are described as average looking possibly young men. One had brown hair and grey eyes, the other had grey-ish brown hair and he was rather stocky. The report of the third though is what troubles me the most," Nasuada said._

"_Why?" Shea asked, falling silent when he received a glare from Arya. Nasuada ignored his outburst and continued with her report._

"_It is described as around seven feet tall, and it dressed in black cloaks. Every one of the villagers cannot describe its face because it scared them all. The one person who did deal with the three the most cannot remember what they looked like at all," Nasuada said._

As he reviewed the descriptions again, he had a sudden revelation, it was as if a missing piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. He stopped the horse in shock. Those descriptions matched perfectly with his friends. The first sounded exactly like Menion Leah, the next Flick, and the third was undoubtedly the mysterious druid Allanon. It was so exactly like him to be all cloak-and-dagger. After all, he had a habit of giving people only the information they needed to know, nothing more.

As excitement surged through him, doubt closed in. It couldn't be his friends…could it? Why would they have come? Nasuada had said that the strangers had appeared on a strange ship. What could be stranger than a ship from his land?

_Are you okay, Shea? Why have you stopped? _Saphira's voice broke through his thoughts.

_I'm fine. I just got distracted._ Shea apologized.

_Well, try not to do it again. Arya is absolutely livid! _Saphira chuckled. Shea smiled. He liked Saphira; she seemed to be very understanding. The grin disappeared as he spurred his horse into action.

_She really hates me doesn't she?_ Shea sighed. _I just don't understand why._

_I must admit she does seem rather hostile but I don't know why she would overreact like this. _Saphira said.

There was the sound of horses' hooves clopping along the packed earth of the trail that he followed. Shea's horse picked up its feet as though it recognized the horses and trusted them. Shea shook his head and warned Saphira. Only after, Saphira confirmed that she was much too high to be seen, did he relax.

The other horses seemed to be approaching with great speed, and soon Shea was able to see them and their rider's. They were all clad in armor, and had the insignia of King Galbatorix. Only the features of the leading rider were striking, he had long black hair, and cold eyes stared at Shea. The face of the man was hard, and it seemed almost cruel. The other soldiers seemed extremely normal compared to him. Shea tried to keep his face neutral, and greeted them cheerfully.

"Hello, as a fellow traveler I must inform you that the road ahead is very rough, and filled with many crevices," He said. The leader of the troop just stared at him uncaring. The other members groaned. Shea smiled caringly, and nodded. "The roads are just so hard at these times. Could I entreat you to join me for dinner? I was just about to stop," He watched as the other soldiers looked hopefully at the leader.

"Alright," The man's voice seemed to match his exterior, it was cold, but Shea sensed that this might be a façade.

"Excellent, it has been a rather lonely travel, and some company will be very welcome," Shea said. "I think I saw a good spot for a fire other there,"

"No fires," The leader said. Shea stepped back surprised and looked at the other soldiers, who merely shrugged. The man went and sat by himself. Shea and the other soldiers sat together, and as the food was shared, a friendly conversation started up.

"My name is Balinor Curzad," Shea made up a name on the spot figuring that being careful couldn't hurt. "I'm traveling to visit my family," He was vague so that he did not reveal that he knew little about Alagaesia, but 'family' seemed to be a magic word.

"Ahhh, I haven't seen my wife in ages," One of the soldiers sighed. "My name's Daniel, this is Jacque, that's Michael, that is Jasper and that…" Daniel nodded towards the leader. "Is General Murtagh," Shea sensed that they feared Murtagh.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Shea said.

"And you. I can't remember the last time we saw a friendly traveler," Daniel smiled easily. Shea nodded, and soon the conversation drifted into simpler things that required almost no thought. He was slightly surprised that they had accepted him so easily. Vaguely he wondered if Saphira, and Eragon would worry about him, but he shrugged off the thought, knowing that there was nothing that he could do.

"Saddle up!" Murtagh said suddenly. He was already mounting his horse. The soldiers jumped up and quickly began to prepare.

"Sorry," Daniel apologized, and the other soldiers murmured sadly. "It seems that we need to make some more ground before nightfall. Have a safe trip,"

"You too," Shea said. He sat watching as they galloped out of sight. When they disappeared he relaxed, Murtagh, he realized had made him very nervous. He swiftly mounted his horse and spurred it into motion.

_Saphira? _He called.

_Come, _She said. Shea flinched unconsciously for Saphira's voice was layered with suspicion. A flow of images flooded his mind, and he began to follow the landmarks shown trying not to worry. A right turn at the rock, and at the berry bush another right, soon he found himself in a small clearing.

Saphira crouched across the clearing, teeth bared, and Eragon sat nearby. Arya was nowhere to be seen. Shea shrugged, and employed the same tactic that he had against Galbatorix's soldiers, setting his face in a neutral expression. Then he dismounted his horse, and tied it to a tree. Almost immediately as he turned around, he felt a smooth cool blade pressed to his throat. Logic led him to believe that Arya held the blade to his throat; he gulped knowing instinctively that she would not hesitate to kill him

"Deja vú," Shea murmured quietly. He was beginning to feel rather fed up with people holding a knife to his throat. The blade pressed tighter, and the metal pierced the soft skin of his neck. A trickle of warm red blood dripped from the cut. Shea looked across the clearing waiting for Eragon to speak. Eragon though merely stared at him, and Arya seemed to have intention of speaking.

_Shea, what happened back there? _Saphira asked. Shea glanced down at the knife, and did not even try to speak. Saphira understood, and spoke to Arya. _Move your knife away, so that he may speak._

"He is a traitor. He does not deserve to speak," Arya said, but she listened to Saphira. Shea frowned, hurt. This was ridiculous, had he not just proven his loyalty.

"I am hurt that you hold me so low," Shea shook his head. "I was late because I had to divert a group of Galbatorix's soldiers. Perhaps I should have let them find you…" Shea managed to look thoughtful.

"What! You know that he's the bad guy here!" Eragon blurted. Shea fixed a withering glare on him.

"Well, he hasn't threatened me numerous times," Shea said.

_Stop it, Shea. It's not polite to bait people. _Saphira chided him.

"Who said that I was joking? I'm fed up with being blamed," Shea said angrily. Saphira snarled. "Sorry, but still. You should be thanking me. I didn't like the look of that general…Murtagh," Shea watched in disbelief as everyone stiffened. All three of them were worriedly watching him.

"We'll have to search his mind," Arya said. Eragon murmured his agreement, as Shea watched in shock.

"What!" Shea cried desperately, feeling betrayed. He threw up barriers around his mind, trying to focus on the Sword's design while his thoughts whirled about in confusion. Arya crashed into Shea's mind shattering his barriers; Shea gasped as she roughly began to shift threw his current memories. As she retreated from his mind, Shea staggered away to sink down against as tree.

"He did not betray us but the general he saw was Murtagh," Arya said. Eragon turned pale, and asked nervously.

"Do you think Galbatorix suspects that we are here?"

_We were very careful. I don't think that he has found out that we left the Varden's camp yet. _Saphira said.

"Why isn't Thorn with Murtagh? Where is he?" Eragon murmured. Arya shook her head.

"I don't know. He must be in Uru'baen, otherwise he would have sensed Saphira," Arya said quietly.

"It's a pity he didn't," Shea muttered. Eragon, and Arya turned to glare at him. Shea stared blankly back at them.

_Stop it Shea! Sulking does not become you. _Saphira growled. Shea flinched, but did not reply. Eragon sighed.

"Listen, Shea. I'm sorry that we had to search your mind but it was necessary," Eragon said.

"I know but I guess I'm just frustrated. I'm in another land, I don't know if I'll be able to get back, and the three people that I have to trust in order to even hope to get back don't trust me," Shea groaned.

"I think that you have proven your trustworthiness, it's just that here people can be forced to do things against their own will. For example; Murtagh was once one of my closest friends, but Galbatorix bent him against his will, and now he has become the enemy," Eragon said sadly. Shea nodded but Eragon noticed that he still looked slightly upset, and annoyed.

There was a sudden flash of light, and three small objects tumbled into the grass. Shea let out a gasp, and leapt toward the items. He even managed to snatch them out of the grass before Arya could get there. Then he cupped the objects in his palm, and held them so that Arya, Eragon, and Saphira could all see.

Three small blue stones, about the color of Saphira's scales, lay in his palm. They glittered as the firelight reflected of the facets carved into them. There was another flash of light, and a small brown pouch appeared on the ground next to Shea. He picked it up, and poured the stones into it. Then, he placed the pouch in his tunic.

"What are those?" Eragon asked rather breathlessly. Shea smiled brightly.

"It appears that I am not as alone as I thought. Someone has taken it upon themselves to remind me that I should not give up hope," Shea said, ignoring Eragon's question.

"But what are those?" Eragon repeated himself.

"These, my friend, are seeking-stones. Still, they are better known as the Elfstones," Shea explained rather vaguely.

"Can you show us?" Arya for once actually sounded interested.

"Well, only if we want to alert other magic users to our presence," Shea said. Eragon looked slightly worried but Arya nodded.

"We were getting ready to leave anyway. Show us,"

"Don't blame me then," Shea cautioned. Eragon shrugged thoughtfully, and began to pack. Shea extracted the elfstones from the pouch, and clutched them in his hand. Then, he began to concentrate on them. Immediately, the stones flared up in blinding blue light that grew steadily brighter causing Arya and Eragon to shield their eyes. The light shot forth from the stones, carving a pathway through the space as a knife would cut through butter. The beacon continued on and on for many miles till suddenly it focused on an image or rather the place that Shea had directed it to find.

The place happened to be the command tent of the Varden. A shocked Nasuada was staring across a table at three figures. Two seemed to be as oblivious to the light of the Elfstones as Nasuada but one turned and looked it seemed right at Shea. The face was covered in shadows produced by the fact that the man was wrapped in a black cloak, but deep black eyes like black holes glittered in the man's face taking in everything and giving nothing back. The man's tilted his face and his lips were revealed. _Even in the darkness there is light. One is never truly alone. _He mouthed.

Then as abruptly as the light from the stones had appeared it disappeared plunging them into momentary darkness as their eyes adjusted. Shea was already slipping the elfstones into the pouch, and putting it away in his tunic. Just as Eragon was about to ask who the three men he seen were the sound of horses hooves echoed distantly. Shea hurried to mount his horse, and Eragon, and Arya scurried about gathering up the last few items and mounting Saphira.

"I did warn you," Shea teased as he spurred his horse into action, galloping off. Saphira took off quickly and was soon safe within the clouds.

Questions burned through Eragon's mind as bright and intriguing as the elfstones themselves.

**Hazelcloud: I apologize I had meant to get them all of the way to the elves but the chapter seemed to be getting a bit too long, not to mention that all of the elven customs confuse me, and I did not feel like looking them up…**

**Reviews are treasured, and you know that you **_**really**_** want to click the green button!**

**Next Chapter:**

A wonderful break from elves gives us time to meet the other Shannara-ian characters, Allanon, Flick Ohmsford, and my favorite Menion Leah, as they try to track down their missing friend!


	8. Like Ohmsford, Like Roran

**Like Ohmsford, like Roran**

The three travelers rode quickly to the Varden, which they quickly found out was a rebel army that was intent on overthrowing the dark king. Allanon was silent most of the time preferring his own company rather than that of others. Menion Leah and Flick Ohmsford bickered like the friends that they were. Until they endured the killing of the Warlock Lord that had merely tolerated each other because Shea had valued both; now they could truthfully say that they were close friends. Still, both had a tendency to tease the other, and Allanon merely watched the proceedings like a moderator, and pushed them towards their goal.

"I can't believe that we help end one war, and immediately Shea ends up in another war torn country!" Flick moaned unhappily. He really hated war, and killing was not something that he enjoyed. He had never killed anyone, and that was not likely to change. Menion smiled.

"At least the Four Lands had definite boundaries. Men, dwarves, and elves fought the dark creatures, and the Warlock Lord. I can't find any pattern in this," Menion was more of a warrior at heart. He didn't enjoy killing, but he had fought as a soldier during the war. Both jumped, when Allanon began to speak. He had not said anything in days, although that could hardly be considered unusual.

"There are many more innocents in this battle. The enemy is clever; he hides in the shadows not taking the violent fame that comes with his actions. This king is hardly the only enemy in this battle," Allanon's voice was deep and thoughtful. He was still wrapped in his dark cloak, and the hood still shaded his face, making it hard for Menion to judge what sort of mood he was in.

"You mean the other rider…the red one right?" Flick said. He was struggling to separate the good, and bad in his mind. Alagaesia was like a foreign world. Nothing made sense anymore, and though he hoped that they could just pick up Shea and leave, he knew in his heart that that would not happen.

"I still don't understand. A rider is someone who rides dragons, which are an intelligent species. Here there are large groups of magicians who can call upon magic at will. I just don't understand!" Menion moaned. Before Allanon had become quiet he had been trying to give the two history lessons about Alagaesia. Neither bothered to ask how he knew so much about Alagaesia, some things were better left alone.

"Evil, and good are never black and white, everything is a shade of grey. Magic is the dominant source for everything in this world. The elves here had more of an effect on the world, than in the Four Lands. It is said that they are immortal," Allanon said.

"If magic is dominant here, then what is dominant in the Four Lands?" Flick asked curious.

"Well, ours is a struggle between science and magic. Neither has a good hold, and it is likely that neither will. The elves-

"Never mind!" Menion cut Allanon off. He already had a head ache, and since they were in Alagaesia, he wanted to know about Alagaesia. "You were saying that the elves here are immortal; shouldn't there be enough of them to just crush the king?"

"Ah, that is their folly. They wait, and wait. Their population can't possibly have increased by more than five or six people in the last hundred or so years. They also seem to have adopted a policy of isolation. Contrary to popular belief, maybe even to their own belief they are not all powerful. Humans will soon pass up the elves. These are in a sort of standstill," Allanon said. Both were silent rolling the information around in their heads. After a while, Menion tossed most of it out preferring not to deal with riddles. Flick constantly thought about it, Allanon's information had always proven to be more important than he had first thought. Allanon weighed every word that he bestowed on people.

Soon enough they saw the tents, and crowds of people that must be the famed army of the Varden. They slowed their horses, and approached the Varden slowly. They need not have worried, the outskirts of the army was a jumbled mess, which could not be untangled. Guards were not present since they were heading in from the Surdan side. As they worked their way deeper into the army's camp, Menion could not help but critique the organization.

"Where are the siege towers and I'm not sure that I understand the organization system of this army yet," He said. Flick who was tiring of Menion's critique glared at him.

"Were you not on the defending army last time?" He said. Allanon continued to lead the way. As they got deeper in the black cloak that Allanon wore was beginning to attract attention. The attention was mostly guarded looks, and worried whispers. Menion continued to speak casually but the words had more meaning now.

"Shouldn't we have been challenged by now?" Flick snapped to attention, and hastily looked around. If nothing had been wrong, Menion would have answered his question. Then he looked at Allanon who shook his head slowly.

"Think highlander," Allanon said softly. Menion's brow furrowed in thought, but Flick came up with an answer quicker.

"It's a trap," He said in horror.

"A clever one too, if you're traveling with idiots," Menion said scornfully. The Varden did clearly not impress him, and the 'trap' was just another annoyance to him. Allanon chuckled.

"Hardly, it would work perfectly. Look behind you but please do it stealthily," He said. Both Menion and Flick risked glances behind them, and saw that the way back was blocked. People were moving about and vaguely he could see wagons blocking off the passage, and armor glinting in the sun.

"Ahh," Menion breathed. "We can hardly go back so they are driving us towards the center where they want us. It begs the question, why so much paranoia about three travelers?"

"Well, Allanon is certainly pretty frightening," Flick said hesitantly.

"Perhaps," Allanon said. The three were quiet as they continued inward. Menion, and Flick were tense but Allanon seemed unconcerned. Eventually, they found themselves surrounded by warriors.

All exits were blocked and they were in a circle of warriors. Menion noted that none dared approach them, all seemed to prefer to give them a wide berth. Nervously, he fingered the hilt of his sword. The three travelers did not dismount instead scanning the ranks gathered before them.

There was rustling, and a woman stepped out to meet them. She was followed by a furry blue creature that seemed to be both colleague and protector, and a young man. Menion and Flick watched, and found themselves unable to be surprised by the blue creature. Nothing seemed odd anymore; Alagaesia was destroying their idea of reality.

"Galbatorix must be feeling very cocky if he has sent you here to bargain," The lady said. Flick let out a groan, it was quite enough to even be in here, but to be mistaken for the enemy was very disheartening.

"I'm afraid to disappoint you but he did not send us here to bargain," Menion said unthinking. There was some murmuring, and Flick hastily corrected Menion's mistake.

"What he means to say is that we don't work for the King Galbatorix," He said worriedly.

"Nonsense! You can't just waltz in here with a Raz'ac and pretend not to serve Galbatorix!" The young man said angrily drawing a hammer. Menion recognized that the man had fought with the hammer before and drew his sword. He gripped it tightly watching the man guardedly.

The young man mistook the action and charged. Menion leapt down, and raised his sword to parry the blow. The hammer glanced off the sword, and he swung he sword around, aiming to disarm the man. The blue creature let out a growl and leapt forward. Allanon raised an arm, and created a wall of druid fire. The fire rose up surrounding the three travelers, and the young man.

"Blasted prince of Leah! Sheathe that sword, and next time don't let your temper get the better of you, highlander!" Allanon said, his voice ringing out. The druid fire flickered, and disappeared. Menion frowned, and sheathed his sword. Grudgingly, he offered a hand to the young man, who ignored him and went to stand by the lady. Menion glared at the man and Allanon before mounting his horse. No one spoke for a long moment.

"Are you okay?" Flick asked quietly of Menion. Menion nodded too angry to reply.

"It seems that we may have skipped the proper introductions," Allanon said smoothly. "My name is Allanon. These are my companions, Menion Leah, and Flick Ohmsford,"

"I am Lady Nasuada, leader of the Varden. This is Blodgarm, and Roran Stronghammer," The lady said uneasily, gesturing first to the blue creature, and then to the young man.

"I am very pleased to meet you," Allanon said. "I was informed recently that a certain Shea Ohmsford was brought to the Varden,"

"He may have been, then again maybe not," Nasuada said. Menion hissed, but Allanon overrode him.

"My young friends here are quite anxious to be united with their friend and brother," He said.

"You don't look related to Shea," Nasuada said.

"So he has been here. Pray tell if he is still here now?" Allanon said.

"He may be here, then again maybe not," Nasuada said. Menion hissed again, trying desperately to control his temper. Even Allanon was beginning to lose his patience. Flick knew that Nasuada had never heard of Allanon otherwise she would not dare to provoke him like this.

"Please, I need to know where he is. I'm a failure of an older brother. Every time he goes off, I lose him. Wouldn't you want to know where your sibling was? You don't understand," Flick said softly, his heart aching. Roran looked up at him, and spoke.

"I understand more than you would think. My cousin ran off, and I thought I had lost him. I finally find him again, and what do I find, he became a dragon rider," Roran said.

"My brother came back master of a talisman that I had only heard of in stories," Flick murmured. "Then you do understand, please help me. I'm not sure that I can go through that again,"

"We will have to discuss this quickly. Wait here," Nasuada said, and she swept off closely trailed by Blodgarm. Roran paused, and looked at Flick.

"Don't worry. I'll try to get them to tell you," He said. Flick smiled weakly.

"Thank you," Flick said gratefully. Roran nodded and hurried off after Nasuada.

**Hazelcloud: I think that Flick and Roran have quite a bit in common don't you? Menion and Roran not so much… Please review!**

**Next chapter:**

Our new friends discover Shea's location, and are off to find him. Meanwhile, Shea and that group arrive at the elven army.

**This chapter most likely won't be up for a few weeks! Finals are coming, and I have a lot of projects to finish.**


	9. Lady meets Prince

**Lady meets Prince**

The three travelers were soon summoned by the Lady Nasuada. They followed the soldiers without an objection. Menion Leah noticed with a smile that they gave the druid a wide berth. Allanon was his usual stoic self, and Flick looked worried almost to death. Menion sighed. Was it his fate to fail? Was he forever destined to never be able to protect his friend?

The room that they were summoned too was hardly impressive. In fact it was slightly anti-climatic. Menion had seen the Lady and he had thought that she would lead from some castle or something. The place they were summoned too was just a tent. Inside, a desk was littered with maps, and a makeshift throne sat at the back. Nasuada sat perched on it looking comfortable, and at home. She wore her mantle of power well, He decided.

"Welcome to the Varden. I am Lady Nasuada," She said regally. Flick bowed deeply the picture of perfect manners. Before Allanon or Menion could greet her, a rather breathless man swept into the tent.

"Nasuada! Why was I not informed of visitors? It is not right to exclude me like this," The man said.

"I'm sorry. I had thought that you would be too busy for this meeting," Nasuada said to him, before turning to address the travelers. "This is King Orrin, ruler of Surda,"

"I am Allanon, druid of the Four Lands. This is Flick Ohmsford, he is the brother of Shea, and that is Menion Leah, Prince of Leah," Allanon said. King Orrin and Lady Nasuada had priceless looks of utter shock on their faces. Menion decided to speak.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," The words and the attitude that went along with royalty did not come naturally to him. Up until about a year ago, he had spent his time tracking and exploring the Four Lands. Nothing that he had done had been relevant to his status. Recently, he had begun to take an interest in Leah much to the relief of his father, the king. It wasn't natural but he was getting the hang of it.

"Indeed," Orrin said, looking somewhat pleased by the fact that Nasuada had also not known about this.

"Why have you come?" Nasuada said. Menion resisted the urge to roll his eyes, she already knew. Why did she need to be so formal? It seemed that people in positions of power could not help but beat around the bush.

"We are looking for a certain Shea Ohmsford," Menion said trying to keep the frustration from his voice.

"What is the reason that you search for him?" Nasuada said. Menion could feel Allanon, who was standing beside him, shifting in annoyance.

"The prince is his best friend, and Flick is his adopted brother," Allanon said. "As for me, that is not something that you need to know," The blue creature, Blodgarm, was standing guard over the two Varden members.

"Do not forget who you speak to. I am an elf and you are naught but a human!" Blodgarm hissed. Menion felt Allanon stiffen in anger. Having almost been on the receiving end of Allanon's anger once, he knew that Allanon was not someone to be trifled with.

"I would hazard a guess that I am quite close in age to you," Allanon said his voice unnaturally calm. Blodgarm sneered.

"I think not," Blodgarm said. Menion noticed that the anger in Allanon was coming to the surface and took a step away from the man. Flick had unconsciously done the same thing. They glanced at each other, then at Allanon, and took another step back. Nasuada and Orrin were staring at them in confusion but neither elf nor druid had noticed. Allanon towered over the elf since he was nearly seven feet tall. Allanon threw back his hood, and turned his strange eyes on the elf. Then he stood silently staring at the elf, his deep black eyes seemed to be black holes taking everything in and they seemed to look right into the elf's soul.

"You are right," Allanon said, anger evident in his voice. "I am definitely older since you insist on arguing with me,"

"How dare you!" Blodgarm sounded really irritated. Flick decided to step in quickly.

"Please, Nasuada. If you won't tell us where he went right now, is there any way that you can get these to him?" Flick held out a small brown leather pouch. Nasuada held out her hand, and he gave it to her. She opened it curiously, and poured its contents into her palm. Three bright blue stones flickered in the candlelight of the tent.

"What are they?" She asked. Flick paused for a brief second considering his answer. He couldn't stand lying but…this was a special case.

"They will let him know that he has not been abandoned in Alagaesia," Flick decided that that answer was as close to the truth as he could get considering the circumstances. The Varden's actions so far did not inspire much trust. Nasuada nodded.

"I believe that they are still close enough that it would not take too much energy. Blodgarm if you will," Nasuada said. Blodgarm looked as if he were about too refuse but then he scooped up the items and began to speak.

"_Thverr deloi,_" Blodgarm said. There was a large flash of light, and the stones, and pouch disappeared. Flick gaped in astonishment, absolutely speechless, but Allanon seemed unimpressed.

"Thank you so much," Allanon said. There was a pause as everyone was silent wrapped up in their own thoughts. Nasuada broke the silence.

"I do not think that it would be wise of me to give you Shea's location. It might endanger our mission," She said. Flick's face crumpled in disappointment, and Menion's flushed with anger.

Suddenly, Allanon's head snapped up, and he turned around. He seemed to be looking at something but there was nothing there. Blodgarm, and Allanon both felt a ripple of magic focus in on them. Blodgarm quickly began to recite some sort of ward, but Allanon motioned for him to stop. The ripple grew fainter, and disappeared.

"I do believe that we will not need your information," Allanon said smoothly. Everyone stared at him in confusion. "With or without your permission we will be leaving now," He turned pulling up the hood on his cloak, and swept out of the tent.

"What?" Nasuada stuttered in confusion. Flick and Menion both shrugged unconcerned.

"It appears that this is goodbye," Menion said, and Flick bowed. Then they turned and hurried off after Allanon. Orrin turned to look at Nasuada and Blodgarm.

"Those were some very strange visitors,"

**Hazelcloud: Like I said finals are coming so the next chapter most likely won't be up for awhile. Reviews would certainly make it come faster, so REVIEW!**

Spells:

Thverr deloi. Traverse earth.


	10. Elven Strongholds

**Elven Strongholds**

Shea had been very silent on the ride towards the elven army. He answered questions when they were directly addressed towards him but he made no effort to start conversations with the others. Eragon began to feel vaguely worried about the young man.

_I'm worried, Saphira. _Eragon said.

_Shea's fine, little one. _Saphira comforted him.

_Why isn't he talking to us? He's changed so much. _Eragon asked desperately.

_I don't know if you want to know you will have to ask Shea._ Saphira answered patiently. Eragon agreed silently.

A message brushed the edge of his mind, and recognizing the mind as Shea's he opened his mind to it.

_I've made camp. Night's falling quickly and I want to stop before I can no longer steer my horse. _A brief series of pictures alerted Eragon to the spot of Shea's camp. Wordlessly Saphira began to head towards the spot and soon they landed. Arya slid off and sat by herself, but Eragon walked towards Shea.

Shea was leaning up against a tree gazing thoughtfully at the three elf-stones that he held in his palm. Eragon sat down next to him, and was silent for a few minutes. Finally, Shea looked up and Eragon could see weariness mirrored in his eyes. The person Eragon had been seeing before was gone drowned by the stress that had befallen him since leaving the Varden's camp.

"May I see them?" Eragon asked. Unease flickered in Shea's eyes but he willingly handed over the elf-stones, hesitating for only a brief moment. Eragon gazed at them marveling at how close the color was to that of Saphira's scales. Then he handed them back to Shea. "Thank you for trusting me," Shea cracked a wry smile.

"I'm told that that is one of my biggest faults. I trust to easily," He said. Eragon practically shouted in relief. This was the first time Shea had offered info about himself since finding the elf-stones.

"People have said the same thing to me," Eragon said honestly. Shea looked back down at the elf-stones and continued rolling them around in his palm.

"So…we're heading towards the elves?" The way Shea said it was more of a question than a statement, as though he dreaded the prospect of meeting Arya's people.

"Yes, we are going to attend Glaedr and Oromis's funeral," Eragon's half-healed heart shuddered as he thought once again of his master's.

"I'm sorry," Shea said quietly. Eragon glanced at him in surprise. Shea looked at Eragon and Eragon was surprised by the sympathy he saw in his face.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because I can tell you cared," Shea said, and jumped up heading for the bedrolls set about the campsite. He paused as Arya came back into the clearing after heading off to wash up. "In the saddlebag," He said simply and lay down to sleep.

"What?" Arya asked confused. Eragon shrugged and walked over to the saddlebag and opened it. Inside was a small cloth bag, Eragon unrolled it and opened it. Big, juicy berries gleamed at him reminding him that he and Arya had not eaten dinner. He could almost see Shea picking the berries during the day remembering from one of their conversations that he and Arya were vegetarians. His heart swelled, and he turned to Arya.

"Shea, got us dinner," He said in disbelief. Arya stared at the berries, and a small grin crossed her face for a second.

"Enjoy," A sleepy Shea mumbled from his bedroll. "Now can you keep it down? I'm exhausted," Even Arya couldn't keep from laughing, Saphira and Eragon joined in. Shea smiled but was soon sleeping deeply.

Every day from then on marked a recovery. Shea continued to find berries, and roots for Arya and Eragon to eat while he would sleep or sit watching them silently. Arya seemed to be softening towards Shea, although Eragon could not find any reason as to why. Eragon tried to keep coaxing Shea into speaking but he offered much less about himself than before.

Soon enough, the three were at the elven army's stronghold. The elves were dressed in black mourning the loss of Glaedr and Oromis. Arya, and to some extent, Eragon were soon enveloped with the feelings of grief that ran high. They lingered with friends discussing quietly and comforting each other. Eragon marveled at the amount of emotion being shown by the elves, and he did not try to hide his sorrow.

Shea for his part was mostly ignored by the elves. He did not fit in with them and felt like a sore thumb. So he generally drifted along behind Arya and Eragon trying to be as inconpicous as possible.

The burial was a heart-felt farwell for everyone. It gave the elves and Eragon some small sense of closure and comfort. The elves began to sing and the song haunted Shea's inner soul. It filled the air ringing with sorrow, and grief; it pulled at the heart and brought tears to the eyes. Shea closed his eyes and allowed himself to be taken away by the magic of the song.

The bodies of Glaedr and Oromis were set in the middle of the camp, and arranged as naturally as possible. Saphira breathed fire out and watched as it slowly consumed the bodies of her masters. The flames flickered creating blinding gleams of light as it reflected off of and melted the gold scales of Glaedr. The flames burned away the harshness of the years on Oromis and soon all that was left was ashes.

A light wind whipped up and scattered the ashes, erasing the final remains of the old riders.

**Hazelcloud: Sorry about the wait. I've been busy. I expect to get the next chapter up sometime in June. I really enjoy your reviews!**


	11. Elfstones and ACTION

**Hazelcloud: Everyone should thank 'Jared' for nicely pointing out that it is now september (well...now its october). I wrote this chapter because 'Jared' managed to spur my muse into action!**

**In response to Jared's many reviews. :) The elfstones were taken from Shea by Allanon who later carried them into Alagaesia. Yes, I don't think that Shea and Arya would get along even if the writer's actually wrote about them...they're like opposites. As for the idea of a chapter from the POV of a citizen, I'm afraid I'll never be able to do that. I don't like when author's just add random characters that serve no purpose and I'm not sure I'd be able to handle even more characters on top of the canon ones from the two series already in this crossover. Partly because Paolini hasn't developed his as much as Terry Brooks did his so I already have to flesh them out more. Sorry about that but I'd love to hear any other comments or ideas you have.**

**In response to Sithshade: Parkasia's great but the only thing that was ever mentioned in the series was Antrax which was pretty cool...but I digress. Actually, I kind of forgot Parkasia and was more thinking about how there has to be more land than just Alagaesia in Paolini's story because otherwise Eragon would have some issues when he has to leave or whatever. If you have any Shannara strands that you want to read mentioned please tell me...I have trouble remembering what I've missed. (Lucky for me there's no wishsong yet!)**

**Elfstones And...ACTION!**

Shea drifted around the elven army feeling extremely bored. So far the elves had been resting in the same spot for the week as they mourned and celebrated trying to complete the ritual of death for heroes in a short span of a week, where it would normally have taken months.

The bodies of the rider and golden dragon had been awe-inspiring but failed to create a connection to Shea's heart. It is after all, rather had to mourn someone you never met. The elves had been telling stories of the pair the whole week giving all of the elves a chance to remember and through stories to begin to heal. Shea found their blank faces that seemed without expression unnerving even though he knew that inside the elves were mourning the loss of their teacher and rider.

Eragon had offered to spar with Shea to give him something to do but Shea had declined. He himself was very passive and had no drive to learn swordsmanship. The sword always felt foreign when he gripped its cool metal in his hand, and the idea of taking a life repulsed him more than he cared to admit to anyone but his brother Flick. Flick had very much agreed with Shea, but his friend Menion Leah was slightly more practical and always claimed that the skill was very much necessary, especially since the world that they had inheirited was so fraught with danger.

So Shea simply took to sitting on the outskirts of what he supposed would be considered the elven army's camp. At the moment it looked to him more like a deserted ruin of a village for temporary structures had been raised to shelter the army an dprovide some small amount of protection to the elves as they completed their week of mourning.

The surrounding area was dark brown and full of charred chunks of wood and wisps of burnt plants for the farmers who had occupied the land on the side of the river of Isenstar farthest from Gil'ead had set fire to their crops to prevent the 'barbaric' invading army from taking them. Shea walked for a bit listening to the sharp crunching sounds of the burnt soil under his boots and breathing in the smoky aroma that still hung around days after the fires had been put out by the arrival of the elven army.

One great big grey boulder rose out of the ground a few yards ahead of him, and he angled his meandering path towards it. Upon reaching it he sat down heavily, sighing as he raked his gaze over the bleak surroundings once again. Once, this land had been bursting with green plants, practically overflowing with life but now...Shea shook his head breaking the train of thought.

_Once upon a time, I was a mere innkeepers son. _Shea thought, _But now I am embroiled in even more events of life or death, freedom or tryanny...I miss how simple life was before this 'Black King'...before the 'Warlock Lord'._

Unconsiously, he reached up and touch the leather pouch that hung around his neck. Just reassuring himself that it was still there, he stroked the three bumps that were the elfstones. Carefully, he manuvered the pouch over his head, and opened it. Pausing for a second, he poured the three elfstones into his hand. Placing the leather pouch onto the rock next to him he stared at the stones rolling the glittering blue ovals around in his palm.

The sunlight reflected off the factes of the stones, and suddenly Shea found himself drowning in the sheer amount of memories dredged up from the depths of his mind. People flitted in and out of his mind; Allanon the Druid, Menion Leah, Flick and Curzad Ohmsford his adoptive family, and vague memories of his long-dead mother and father...

Time lost all meaning as Shea roamed about the constantly changing landscape of his memories, lost to ther world. A hand came down and softly rested on his shoulder. Shea jumped, startled, and looked up into the concerned face of Eragon.

"I'm fine," Shea said quickly, answering Eragon's unspoken question. "I was just remembering," A wry smile flitted across Eragon's face.

"It's not good to spend too much time among our past," Eragon said gravely. Then his face was transformed by a genuine smile that stretched to the corners of his face. "Tonight though is a time for celebrating. Tonight is what the elves call 'The Night of New Life'. It's a time of celebration,"

"Ahh," Shea nodded tucking the elfstones back in their pouch, and replacing it around his neck.

"C'mon," Eragon said taking Shea's hand and pulling him to his feet before setting off in the direction of the elven army's camp. Shea turned to follow but froze as he saw two large yellow orbs staring right at him.

"Eragon?" He said hesitantly. Eragon turned and stared off in the same direction was Shea had pointed.

"What?" Eragon said frowning. Shea shook his head and rubbed at his eyes.

"I just thought that I saw something," He said uncertain now. The eyes had disappeared and he was no longer certain that he hadn't just imagined them.

"I don't see anything but I feel something," Eragon paused as he glanced around them. The sun was begining to set bathing the earth in deep cranberry color and shadows were begining to gather in pools.

"We should hurry back then," Shea said, a hint of nerves showing in his face as he hurried forward overtaking Eragon. Eragon glanced around one last time.

"Something's not right," He muttered under his breath before turning on his heel, and heading off after Shea.

**Hazelcloud: I hope that this wasn't hard to read. I had to use Wordpad instead of my beloved Word 2003. Wah, anyway please review! I'll try to ge the next chapter written ASAP.**

**Preview:**

The elven celebration began and even Shea got caught up in the excitement. Huge bonfires were built around the camp...


	12. The Night of New Life

**The Night of New Life**

The elven celebration began and even Shea got caught up in the excitement. Huge bonfires were built around the camp, and the elves dropped their somber expressions, and began to lighten up. The Mourning Time was over and 'The Night of New Life' had begun, and the elves were ready to celebrate the beginnings that occur because of every ending. A festive mood encompassed the camp, and the elves began to sing. These songs were songs of celebration so unlike the songs of sorrow that the elves had been singing previously, instead of haunting these songs were loud and joyful.

The elves sang and danced all about the camp, twirling about in capes and dresses of bright colors, the fiery bonfires kept the entire camp in the light allowing the festivities to carry on into the night. For once, Shea felt as though he wasn't an outsider for the elves had cracked open some casks of sweet berry flavored wine and all of the elves were slightly drunk, more open than he had ever seen them before and they were no longer as perceptive as before.

Shea spun about caught by the hands of some pretty elven maid who smiled brightly at him just before they spun about again and switched partners. Around and around and around Shea spun being switched between partners their faces beginning to blur till he found himself on the outside fringe of the celebration. He excused himself from the dance and stood smiling as he stared into the flames of the bonfire.

**Crunch.**

Shea looked up suddenly, listening. The sound wasn't repeated but when he turned to look back at the bonfire, he caught a glimpse of the strange yellow eyes. He took a deep breath and turned to look hoping that this wouldn't be a mistake for his mind was screaming at him to run!

Sitting just outside of the light cast by the fire was a raven, actually an albino raven. It cocked its head and peered at him through beady eyes. Clutched in its beak was a branch, about as thick as Shea's thumb, it looked unwieldy in the bird's sharp beak. The bird hopped forward thrusting its head forward as though attempting to pass the branch onto him. Hesitantly, Shea reached out and grasped the branch.

The rough ridges of the branches brown bark dug into his hand, and he closed his eyes feeling something tugging on his consciousness. He opened his eyes and found himself facing a large willowy tree. As he looked around him, he found himself a natural open clearing surrounded completely by smaller trees of every variety.

This forest he sensed was thriving feeding off of the bright sunlight, and water…and something more. Something, he blinked, that seemed to emanate from the large willow tree that stood before him. This tree was ancient, quite obviously the oldest tree in the forest, and it had a huge presence that seemed almost majestic.

Shea stepped forward, and stood facing the tree, the branch from the raven's beak still clutched in his hand. A wispy branch lowered to touch his shoulder, and there it rested gently. Another consciousness reached out towards his mind. A shiver of fear rushed through him only to be soothed by a rush of warmth from the other mind.

_Welcome, little elf. _The voice said, sounding soft and weary in his mind.

_Who are you? _Shea asked uncertain. The soft feminine voice sighed lightly, as though something had just been made clear to it.

_I am the Menoa Tree. But I can tell that you are one of hers. _The tree spoke softly, its branches rustled about in the soft breeze but the branch resting on his shoulder never moved.

_Who's? I don't know who you speak of…_ Shea stuttered slowly, feeling slightly as though this was something he should have known but didn't.

_I am the protector of this forest. But only the protector of this forest, she protects a whole land… _The Menoa answered softly.

_But who is she? _Shea asked. The Menoa tree continued speaking, ignoring his question.

_She is like an elder sister to me, she is called the Ellcrys, her roots reach far and she always protects her own. She has a message for you… Do you accept it? _The tree asked.

_Of course. _Shea answered. He knew of the Ellcrys, for he had heard Allanon mention the elven tree with a great amount of respect before.

_My dear chosen…_ The branch on his shoulder still rested there but when he glanced at it, for a second he thought it looked pale and white, instead of the natural brown of the Menoa tree. He looked back at the tree and caught a glimpse of what the Ellcrys must look like, a huge white willow. _You bear the burden of helping this other land, my sister the Menoa asked for help and I have sent you… Beware, child. You are in danger, throw the branch on the fire, and act._

_Danger! What danger?_ Shea looked about in fear but he saw nothing but the clearing. He looked back to the tree and no longer saw any sign of the Ellcrys coloring in the tree's bark; the Menoa tree lifted its branch from his shoulder with one last parting word.

_Beware._

Shea blinked and suddenly the clearing was gone from his vision. The albino raven screamed at him in its harsh cawing voice. He frowned as he looked down at the branch clutched in his hand, danger…

He turned to look at the blazing bonfire, and gritted his teeth. With one swift lash of his arm, the branch hurled into the fire and the flames blazed up. They soared up into the sky, flying up higher, reaching for the sky like a dozen flares. Their light illuminated a huge portion of the black sky, showing that up there lurked darker shadows that blocked the faint starlight.

Shea's blood ran ice cold, and he reached into his tunic for the leather pouch that contained the elfstones, fumbling for them as fast as he could. _Danger! _His mind screamed at him, and he responded as quickly as he could.

He clutched the blue stones tightly in his hand, feeling the facets of them beginning to dig into his palms. He called up the power within them, and felt it begin to build up within him till he could no longer contain it. Then he let it free, and watched as it lashed up into the sky, burning into one of the shadows up there.

The shadow let out a high shriek, and it began to fall to the ground, plummeting quickly as the fire of the elfstones continued to sear into it. It swirled madly out of control, and Shea leapt out of the way, throwing himself to the ground just before it would have crashed into him. Shea tasted dirt in his mouth, and spat on the ground as he hauled himself to his feet.

The body on the ground was grotesque, its limbs twisted madly out of shape by the fall, and its features burnt beyond recognition by the fire of the elfstones but the general shape reminded him of some great winged dragon, of a much smaller scale than Saphira, perhaps it was a skullbearer.

He unleashed the elfstones on it again burning it into ashes. A screech echoed above him, and he whirled about glancing towards the sky reaching out again for the power of the elfstones willing them to protect him. The fire scorched first one shadow then another whenever they dove towards him but they were massing above having learned from the death of the first creature.

Shea clenched his teeth, and willed someone…anyone to notice what was happening. Then it dawned on him, these creatures could not possibly have been just after attacking him, he was just a minor threat compared to all of these elves gathered about. Unless, he thought, they were only after distracting whoever discovered them. Who was the greatest threat here? Eragon and that elven queen Islanzadi, they would be at the heart of any plot, of that Shea was sure.

Scowling he turned and began to sprint towards the center of the camp focusing the power of the elfstones instead in finding Eragon, hoping that the creatures wouldn't manage to attack him in the midst of the elves. The light from the stones glowed out from his hand leading the way through the camp's tents and huge bonfires. He noticed that few elves were still outside, most had moved inside the tents to drink, and sit talking instead.

The shadows chased him but skittered around the bonfires, as though scared of the light, and fire. He burst through another row of tents and saw Islanzadi, Eragon, Arya, and a furry elf standing before a bonfire. His blood froze as he saw another mass of shadows gathering above them, but they had not noticed.

"Move!" He shouted sending the fire out again. He saw eight pairs of eyes turn to look at him in horror till they realized that the fire was not directed at them but rather above them. Another body of the shadow creatures fell in charred pieces to the ground, and restrained panic broke out as the four leapt into action.

**Hazelcloud: That was a fast update right? Reviews would be immensely encouraging for I'm not looking forward to writing the fighting…it's so complicated. Kudos to anyone else who realized how similar the Ellcrys and the Menoa tree are, more even then I've mention so far.**


	13. A Struggle, Confusion, and Reunion

**Hazelcloud: Thanks to Sithshade for the review. I think you're the only one who did, but according to the traffic page people are reading it, and people from other countries too! That's exciting, and I just wanted to say thanks, since this is officially my longest fanfiction.**

**A Struggle, Confusion, and an Over-joyed Reunion**

Shea's warning couldn't have come a second to late, that would have resulted in a couple of deep wounds for all involved. As it was, Eragon had ducked instinctively, and drawn Brisingr which had effectively gotten him out of the way of the diving creature. Queen Islanzadi had tried to move, but the time spent hiding in the elfin capital had slowed her actions down, and she barely made it out of the way. Arya and the furry elf, Blodgarm, had rolled out of the way of the creature, and like Eragon were now ready to do battle with the attacker. This, for Shea, was a huge relief.

Unfortunately, there still seemed to be a huge cloud of the creatures gathering above them in the dark night sky. At least, Shea supposed there had to be since the sound of their shrieks was a loud and raucous noise. Eragon yelled in a loud voice, and his sword flamed bright. The creatures swooping about them swerved to avoid the bright blade, screeching in pain as the light burned their eyes. Shea called the elfstones to action again, and watched numbly as it seared into another of the creatures.

Islanzadi and Blodgarm had called up some magic to launch at the creatures but when it hit them, it didn't seem to be near as effective as they had hoped. Arya swiped with her blade, catching one of the creatures in the side, drawing blood. Shea noticed all of this in an offhand sort of way because the number of creatures above didn't seem diminished and he was having serious doubts about fending them all off. It was unlucky; he thought that they didn't have any other allies to call upon.

As if in answer to his thought, another stream of magic lit up the sky. This new magic also attacked the creature's, destroying them efficiently. Shea was too occupied to turn to see the person but it seemed to him that whoever it was had experience with the creatures.

"Leah! Leah!" A voice yelled, and another sword joined the fray. Shea broke into a smile, without a doubt, he knew who the allies were now.

Menion Leah had noticed the smile that was on Shea's face and was instantly relieved that they had arrived when they did. He had heard that the elves of this land were powerful but to be caught so woefully unprepared seemed rather pathetic to him. He lashed out again with his sword, grim as he dismembered a creature as it dove within reach.

Allanon's magic rippled over them again from where he stood at the edge of the bonfire. He looked intimidating framed as he was against the bright fire, magic sparking from his fingertips. Flick Ohmsford hovered worried in Allanon's shadow, uneasy and un-useful in battle.

The tide was turning in the battle, for the arrival of Shea's friends so suddenly had tipped the scales back again. The charred bodies of many dead creatures lay smoldering about the clearing of the bonfire, and the number of shadows in the air was very small. The remaining survivors shrieked in irritation and despair and vanished into the night sky.

There was silence for a moment, as everyone waited with baited breath wondering if the sudden retreat had just been a blind to distract their attention. When, after several long moments, there had not been a resumed attack everyone began to relax.

Menion Leah and Flick Ohmsford were the first to recover. Menion sheathed his sword and the two of them leapt at Shea, hugging him tightly. He laughed and gasped as he suddenly found that he could no longer breathe due to the hug. He pounded his brother and best friend on their backs, and they reluctantly released him. They took a small step back, and swept critical gazes over Shea.

"Are you alright? You haven't been injured have you?" Menion asked curiously, at the same time as Flick spoke.

"Have you been eating? Are you alright Shea? I'll never forgive myself if something happened to you." Shea laughed and deposited the elfstones back in the leather pouch around his neck. Then he tackled his friends, and the three of them laughed as they shared another relieved hug. When, they had parted again, a serious look was in Menion Leah's eyes.

"Flick's right, Shea. We would never forgive ourselves if something happened to you. You must promise not to run off without us again." Menion Leah said solemnly, Flick nodding in silent agreement. Shea smiled gratefully, and nodded.

"I won't. I'm so glad you're here. I was worried." Shea admitted. Menion flashed him a flippant smile.

"Worried about me? That's ridiculous; I've the luck of the highlanders." Menion's voice was mock-solemn.

"Indeed, and the temper to match them." Allanon's voice cut in scornfully. All three head's turned sharply to look at him and the others as though realizing that they hadn't been alone.

"Well, that too." Menion shrugged, unconcerned. The highlander, and Allanon had never gotten along very well, and the taunting was a normal occurrence.

"Shea… Who are these people?" Eragon asked, feeling rather awkward. It was clear that all of them were on friendly terms, although Eragon found the appearance of the tall cloaked man disconcerting. The warm reunion had been so heartfelt that Eragon was curious as to the stranger's identities.

Menion and Flick moved to stand by Shea so they could get a clear look at Alagaesian elves. Allanon had not shifted from his place by the bonfire, although he pulled the dark hood from his face. Islanzadi, Blodgarm, and Arya seemed uneasy and suspicious as they stared at the intruders. Eragon, though, seemed genuinely curious.

"This is Flick Ohmsford, my brother. This is Menion Leah, Prince of Leah and my good friend. That is Allanon." Shea completed the introductions by gesturing at those mentioned and wondered what he could add in order to explain Allanon. Nothing, he finally decided, would make any difference, Allanon was an enigma.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Eragon said honestly. He was excited to finally meet some of Shea's actual friends. They seemed to make Shea feel more comfortable.

"I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you too, except… I don't know who _you_ are." Menion answered. Flick snapped an annoyed glare at him.

"Menion!" He hissed. "Don't be rude."

"It's the truth." Menion answered, shrugging for effect. The elves seemed affronted by his bold behavior but Eragon found it humorous.

"I'm Eragon Shur'tugal." He said, noting how Menion's eyes narrowed as if measuring him.

"A dragon-rider then?" Menion asked. Eragon and Shea jumped in surprise.

"He is, but Menion how did you know that?" Shea asked. Menion gestured at Allanon, and all eyes fell upon his dark figure.

"Before we complete any further introductions, I'd like to know how you seem to know so much about Alagaesia." Islanzadi snapped irritably. Allanon fixed his black soul searching gaze upon her.

"I'm a historian and dabbler in the magical arts, a Druid if you will. The remnants of your grey folk, according to the Druid Histories, seem to have landed in the Four Lands and have had a hand in creating the Druid Council, an order for the preservation of magic in the Four Lands." Allanon explained his voice even and callous. The eyes of the Alagaesian elves widened in shock.

"The grey folk!" Arya spluttered. Allanon shrugged unconcerned, and uninterested in sharing any more of his shrouded history.

"I must assume that you are Queen Islanzadi, and you, her daughter Arya." Allanon said continuing to ignore the looks he was receiving.

"Correct. Is this information also from your histories?" Islanzadi muttered spitefully.

"Oh no," Allanon said grinning. "I've other sources for the more recent information."

"What?" Eragon asked, intrigued by the druid.

"That's not knowledge to impart yet." Allanon swept the hood up over his head again. "The rest of our talk can wait until morning, and then we can discuss your little problem with the king."

With those final words, he stalked off, leaving a gaping group behind him.


	14. Finally an Idea!

**Finally an Idea!**

"Little problem? Did he just call King Galbatorix a_ little_ problem?" Queen Islanzadi hissed as her face grew hot. Arya, and Blodgarm both looked unnerved and annoyed but Eragon just seemed confused. Allanon's dark cloaked shape had disappeared easily in the shadows, and with him out of the question the elves turned upon the three left behind.

"I'm sure that he didn't mean it like that." Flick stammered shifting under the piercing stares of the elves. Menion scoffed, and rolled his eyes at his friend's statement.

"Come off it Flick. He meant exactly what he said."

"But…" Flick paused uneasily.

"Then he must have some plan." Arya frowned as she spoke. Shea shrugged and turned to Flick and Menion hoping for some shred of good news. Flick and Menion shared a look.

"I doubt it." Menion was blunt, his feud with Allanon saving him from having to act polite.

"He hasn't mentioned anything." Flick cut in quickly, glaring at Menion. Shea took pity on his brother.

"Although that's not anything new. Allanon never tells more than he thinks you need to know." Shea said. Queen Islanzadi looked affronted and seemed about to speak but Menion cut her off.

"Allanon is just Allanon. If you have a problem with him, talk to him not us." Menion said. There was a tense silence between the two groups. Flick glanced around the clearing searching for something to ease the tension. His eyes fell upon the charred bodies of the creatures.

"I say Shea. What were those?" He asked. Menion's eyes lit up and he moved closer to one of the creature's in order to see it better. Eragon walked to stand beside Menion to see the creature too.

The body of the creature was mutilated and almost charred beyond recognition. Leathery wings were twisted and bent at odd angles, and the beaked faces were frozen in grotesque expressions. Similarly gruesome corpses were scattered all around the bonfire.

"I don't recognize them could they be related to the skull bearers?" Menion asked. Shea frowned down at the corpses and shrugged.

"They look like lethrblaka or ra'zac but I killed the last of those." Eragon muttered.

"It doesn't really matter. What matters is our fight with Galbatorix." Islanzadi cried still upset. Menion, Shea, and Flick shared an exasperated glance.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow. That's what Allanon said, so we just have to believe him." Flick said finally, and the three of them hurried away whispering amongst themselves. Islanzadi stared after them before leaving with Blodgarm leaving, Arya and Eragon alone.

"How curious…" Arya murmured as she watched them leave. Eragon frowned puzzled.

"What do you mean?" Eragon asked.

"It's just, the druid Allanon, acts as though he has all the answers. But… he can't can he? He doesn't belong here." Arya was frowning too.

"He must be confident that he can find the answers then." Eragon decided. The druid did not seem worried overmuch about Galbatorix, so he had to have a plan.

_Eragon? Are you alright?_ Saphira asked suddenly, making her appearance as she landed in the clearing. Her nostrils flared as she took in the scent of the dead creatures. _What has happened little one?_

"We were attacked by these creatures, and saved by Shea and his friends." Eragon explained.

_So he found his friend, and brother._ Saphira hummed happily. Eragon chuckled.

"He also introduced us to a druid, Allanon." Arya said.

_The dark cloaked one? _Saphira asked.

"Yes…but how did you know that Saphira?" Eragon was surprised. Saphira hummed deeply, amused.

_I saw him walking. He is powerful; I can sense the magic in him. _

"Maybe he will be able to help us find a way to defeat Galbatorix." Arya said.

_Eragon, I have an idea! I think I know how we can find the Rock of Kuthian and the Vault of Souls. _Saphira exclaimed.

"What? How?" Eragon asked excitedly.

_We can use Shea's seeking stones to find its location._ Saphira explained. Eragon smiled, it seemed that they were making progress after all.

"We can tell them of our plan tomorrow, and ask Shea to use the elf stones." Eragon decided.

"Well, then I look forward to tomorrow. Good night Eragon." Arya bid her goodbyes, and departed. Eragon and Saphira spent the night together, mulling over the argument for tomorrow.


	15. Hadeshorn

_Hadeshorn._

**Hazelcloud: Thanks for the review Astenbaud.**

Eragon and Arya had tracked down the Four Landers early the next morning eager to discuss their idea. Shea, Flick, and Menion had seemed surprised to see them so early in the morning but offered them some tea that they had prepared in a pot over a little campfire, just outside the main elven camp. Eragon and Arya accepted the steaming drinks, and stood sipping them, waiting. Shea and Flick were talking quietly, and Menion was tracing a meaningless pattern in the dirt with his foot. Footsteps sounded on the hard dirt ground, and Allanon appeared dark and imposing in the half-light of the morning. He stopped near the campfire, and stood silently watching them.

"Arya, Saphira, and I came up with a plan." Eragon said confidently. Flick's head snapped around to look at them, Menion glanced up warily, Shea looked curious, and Allanon's expression refused to change.

"Shea, the elfstones in your possession can find anything right?" Arya asked. Shea looked stuck between puzzled, and amused.

"Well, yes." He said. "Provided you don't mind attracting all sorts of attention."

"We were thinking that you could use the elfstones to locate the Rock of Kuthian." Arya said.

"What exactly is the Rock of Kuthian?" Flick wanted to know. Everyone looked curious but Allanon's interest was intense, his focus solely on Eragon and Arya. Eragon and Arya exchanged a cautious glance but Eragon had evidently decided to trust them.

"The Rock of Kuthian is home to the Vault of Souls." Eragon said. Allanon straightened, eyes darkening and a frown appearing instantly on his face.

"Hmm… I could try to search for it but it will be hard to focus on. I don't know what it looks like so I'm not sure how successful I will be a locating it." Shea said hesitantly. Eragon and Arya looked crestfallen. Menion was sure that they had been looking forward to a success that would have meant a faster end to the war and the death of the tyrant, Galbatorix.

"I could provide a sense of what to look for. I have encountered a place that would be comparable to your Vault of Souls." Allanon said suddenly.

"You have?" Came the inevitable chorus. Menion and Flick sounded surprised, while Shea sounded curious. Arya was doubtful, and Eragon was impressed. Allanon looked back at them with his inscrutable gaze, and nodded slowly.

"I have," He paused as if deciding what to say. "When I first became a druid I had to commune with the souls of my ancestors, the past druids in order to gain their knowledge. The place sounds very similar to your Vault of Souls."

"Alright… but will you be able to describe it?" Shea wondered for he had not the slightest clue of what a 'Vault of Souls' would be like. Allanon favored him with a small smile.

"I can do better than that. Call up the magic Shea, I will focus it." Allanon moved to stand behind Shea, one hand resting on his shoulder.

Shea swallowed, and pulled the magic up from within himself. He held one hand out, clutching the shimmering blue elfstones in one hand. Allanon's expression didn't change but Shea gasped when the light blazed out from the elfstones. The light led the way, heading away from them and illuminating a picture for the whole company.

It sliced away from them, speeding across the land and skirting Dras Leona to plunge into Helgrind and flow downward to illuminate an underground pool. Its banks hung heavy with fog barely illuminated by torches with stalactites hanging from the ceiling to barely brush the surface of the pond. There was a shifting near the bank and Eragon recognized the hulking shape as belonging to a Lethrblaka. The picture shivered and then dropped away as Shea dropped the magic letting it flow back into the elfstones. His hands were shaking again, the magic of the elfstones was hard for him to access and each time it only became more and more difficult. Allanon squeezed his shoulder gently; the only sign of comfort that he would give, and then stepped away from Shea as he retreated back into his cold cloaked self.

"Did anyone recognize the place? Because that _thing_ looked an awful lot like the ones we fought." Menion said, always ready to start the conversation since no one else seemed likely to speak. Shea shook his head, hanging the leather pouch containing the elfstones back around his neck, and clenching his shaking hands into tight fists to hide the tremors. Flick was watching him with worry, although that was not a change from how he normally acted.

"That was a Lethrblaka. They only live in Helgrind so the lake in the picture must be at the base." Eragon said. "Although I had not heard of one being there before."

"I have." Arya spoke up suddenly. "It's an elven legend that the souls of the early dead, those dragon riders and dragons who lived before Galbatorix and the Forsworn, used to collect in a pond when they died forming a source of knowledge for those that came after them. But everyone believed that it was only a legend. The legend never mentioned any name for the place either."

"I believe that your 'Vault of Souls' may be an offshoot of the waters known as Hadeshorn in the Four Lands. The dead druids also collect there, and their purpose follows your legend. It is possible that the Rock of Kuthian that you seek is just another name for this place you now call Helgrind. Names change over time." Allanon's gravelly voice emanated from under his low hood.

"We need to get to the Vault of Souls if we are to have any hope of defeating Galbatorix." Eragon said and Arya was nodding in agreement. Shea, Flick, and Menion all exchanged cautious glances.

"You'll have to go on ahead, the Varden Army should have reached Dras Leona by now but the elves are heading towards Uru'Baen." Arya said.

"Right, well if Saphira flies me there it should not take too long." Eragon said feeling more confident now that they had information that they could use to create a plan.

_I have become much stronger. It will be a short trip._ Saphira agreed.

"It shouldn't take too long to get to the Vault of Souls and then we can fly back and join the elven army as it reaches Uru'Baen." Eragon decided.

"What is it that you expect to find, young dragon rider?" Allanon asked suddenly, his voice intense.

"I…" Eragon was left speechless not knowing how to express what he hoped for. He wanted a way to defeat Galbatorix and he would be willing to do anything but endanger Saphira, Arya and his family in order to achieve that.

"You shall need to beware. The Vault of Souls will not be easy to endure. They offer knowledge but you may find that the price is too steep." Allanon warned him, the other Four Landers recognized the tone as one of personal experience.

"I will have to try. I cannot let Galbatorix win here." Eragon said. "This is my home and Saphira deserves better than to be an outcast for her life."

"You shall have to prove it." Allanon said. "There is just one thing you must remember. Don't touch the water Eragon."

"Alright." Eragon agreed, feeling overwhelmed by the knowledge that the Vault of Souls and the end of the war seemed to be so close to his grasp.

"We'll stick with the army and meet you back here when you get back." Menion said, speaking for all of the Four Landers.

"Actually, I was thinking that maybe Shea could come along with me…" Eragon said, pausing as he saw how pale Shea got.

"I think Shea will be staying here." Allanon spoke softly, ignoring the grateful looks from Shea and Flick. "But if you were not adverse to my accompanying you, I could join you."

"I…" Eragon paused not sure how to politely decline. The Druid made him nervous and uncomfortable.

_I think he may be helpful although his power makes my scales itch._ Saphira confided in Eragon. A smirk quirked at Allanon's mouth as he shook his head.

"You will be fine on your own. Just speak your _name_ and then you shall have what you seek if they find you worthy." Allanon said, he turned and strode away after his final piece of advice, disappearing from sight. Menion and Flick visibly relaxed though Shea just looked amused.

"He's less cryptic lately." Shea said looking thoughtful. Menion outright gaped at him, and Flick chuckled.

"Only because you haven't been traveling with him. He's just as close-lipped as ever." Menion grumbled.

"When will you be leaving?" Shea asked Eragon.

"As soon as possible. We need as much time as we can get in order to outwit Galbatorix." Eragon said. "I'll see you three when I get back. Do stay safe while I'm gone, won't you?"

"We'll be fine." Menion assured him.

"Good luck." Shea wished him sincerely, remembering his experiences with odd druid magic. Eragon and Arya politely bid the Four Landers goodbye and hurried back to the main camp to gather the supplies Eragon would need for the trip. He left later that day, determined to be back with the main elven army in a few days time.

**Next chapter: Hadeshorn and the Vault of Souls!**


	16. Hadeshorn and the Vault of Souls

**Hazelcloud: I apologize Gramayre this is later than I ever thought it would be. Thank you for all your reviews!**

**Just for clarities sake: Shades in the **_**Shannara**_** series are the equivalent of spirits in **_**Eragon**_** and I have used both interchangeably in this chapter.**

**Hadeshorn and the Vault of Souls**

Helgrind was not somewhere that Eragon had ever wanted to visit again, the Raz'ac and Lethrblaka still made his insides twist uncomfortably. He had met enemies more difficult and vile than them but he could never shake the fear that always flickered when he saw them. It was a fear that was cancelled out by the hatred that he felt towards them. They had killed his uncle and Brom, the Raz'ac and Lethrblaka had made a mark on his life and he would never forget it.

_I thought that we had seen the end of the Raz'ac and Lethrblaka._ Saphira said into his mind echoing what Eragon had been considering since they began their flight.

_We finished them off. I think that they may be more of the creatures that attacked us after the funeral._ Eragon said directly to her mind knowing that the wind would steal his words.

_We will deal with them easily. They were no challenge._ Saphira said confidently and tucked in her wings as she angled them to land in the cave of Helgrind. Eragon examined the cave and lead the way as the pair of them wound their way through the passages steadily heading towards the bottom of Helgrind. There were deep scratches in the ground where thick claws had scrabbled on the floor and Eragon assumed that they came from the creature that he had seen in the elfstones. Saphira kept close to him and Eragon was grateful that the passages in the mountain were large enough for her to accompany him. The downward slope of the path leveled out and they found themselves in the cavern at the bottom of Helgrind.

It was a huge cavern. Eragon was sure that Saphira would be able to take off and circle around it. The pond took up most of the ground, its banks shrouded by a heavy fog. Stalactites hung down from the ceiling and stopped just above the still water of the pond. Torches anchored to the walls glowed providing eerie illumination, and Eragon could feel magic practically coating the whole room. There was no sign of the creature that he had seen, and he shifted uncomfortably.

_I will keep an eye out._ Saphira promised as she settled down by the only entrance to the cavern. _Be careful, there is great magic here._

"I will be. I can feel it." Eragon promised as he ran his hand over her scales once in reassurance.

Eragon approached the edge of the water cautiously; it was darker that it should have been. He couldn't see the bottom and its surface was mirror-like with not even the slightest ripple marring its surface. He paused at the edge of the lake and peered out across its surface wondering what to do.

_It has been awhile since any of your kind has visited here. You are lucky that your spirits are more forgiving than us._ The voice was loud enough to make him jump but it also echoed as though its speaker was very far away. Eragon blinked and suddenly saw the figure that stood on the surface of the lake just eight feet away from him. It was covered in a thick black cloak that reminded him of Allanon. _Your shades are weak. They stand upon less ceremony. Speak your name._

"I am Eragon." Eragon said, and he could see the spirit shrug.

_Your name, young one. The Vault of Souls cannot open without it._ The spirit said and Eragon watched as pale hands emerged from the cloak and clasped in front of the dark robe.

"Evarín wiol allr." Eragon said remembering what the Sword of Shannara had revealed to him. He watched as the waters of the pond roiled and bubbled. From the swirling fog and water emerged a spirit that Eragon immediately recognized.

"Brom!" He said. The spirit looked over at him and held out a hand. Eragon took a step forever and the waves of the water were lapping at his toes. The druid shade was watching him balefully, and he suddenly remembered Allanon's warning.

_There is just one thing you must remember. Don't touch the water Eragon._

He glanced down and was surprised to find himself so close to the water's edge. Eragon took a measured step away from the water before he dared to look at Brom again.

_You are what you seek._ Brom's spirit said and Eragon fights the shiver that runs up his spine at the sound of his voice. _I am proud of you._

"I…" Eragon could feel his throat start to seize up and he paused. Hearing that from his father was more than he had expected but he wished that he could actually interact with him. This was painful as much as it was helpful. "I'm not enough. I can't do it without help."

_What more do you seek?_ Brom's spirit asked him, and the druid steps closer to Brom. Eragon still can't see its face but he is sure that it mimics Brom's curious look.

"I need a way to win. I need a way to defeat Galbatorix." Eragon said quickly. He knows what he wants to do but doesn't know how to do it. "I need a way to free Alagaesia."

_I can give you that._ Brom's spirit said and he sounded even more solemn than before.

"Thank you!" The relief is immediate and overwhelming. Eragon can't believe that everything he has been working towards is so close to completion.

_It is not free._ Brom said.

_You need to think about this carefully._ The druid shade added.

_I can give you a word. The word for the ancient language. It will free those enslaved, and give you the edge you need._ Brom said.

"What must I do?" Eragon asked. He would have to pay the price, no matter what. He needed this. The true name of the ancient language would give him a chance to defeat Galbatorix. In a fight without magic it would be possible for him to win.

_You will unbalance the world, and you must not linger. Once magic is starting to become re-established you must promise to leave Alagaesia._ Brom said.

"But where would I go?" Eragon wondered. This demand makes more sense than he expected. He can remember Angela's prediction and she had told him the same thing. At least he knows that it will be worth it.

_There are lands outside of Alagaesia._ It is the druid shade this time, and his voice sounds amused.

"I accept. I can do nothing else." Eragon agreed.

_Aurboda Vanyali._ Brom's spirit fades from sight after he speaks but the druid shade lingers on. The hood is lowered so that eyes can fix upon Eragon in an unnerving stare.

_Be careful, little one. _The shade says. _And tell Allanon that Bremen sends his greetings._ With those last words, the druid shade also fades away and the fog covers the surface of the pond again.

_We have gotten what we came looking for._ Saphira said to Eragon, and he turned to her.

"I think we can do it now."


End file.
